


bandaids and bullet holes

by inkin_brushes



Series: Immortals (Vamp AU) [37]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaehwan wasn’t attached to Sanghyuk, he just didn’t like sharing. Simple as that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bandaids and bullet holes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic continues on the theme of making you want to punch Jaehwan in the face and yet also wanting to pat his stupid little head.

A thick line of blood dripped out of the corner of Jaehwan’s mouth, trickling down to fall from his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, tongue poking out to lap the stains off his skin. 

He let the drained body of his meal — a petite young woman, wearing heels far too large for her small frame — fall to the pavement. Her hair, smelling thickly of hairspray, fanned around her head where she lay. 

Jaehwan smoothed his hands over his shirt, his trousers, straightening them, and then walked casually out of the alleyway. 

He felt better. It had been two weeks, since he’d first begun feeding on others again. He’d fed a bit overmuch in that time, readjusting to the feeling of it, and was glad for it. He certainly felt more composed, less like he was unravelling. 

It had been a good idea, to step back, to remind himself of what he was, and what he was not.

He was a vampire. He was old and strong and capable. And he felt it, again. He’d been shaken, before, at the prospect that he had cracks in his armor, and that something unwelcome had sunk through them, poisoned him. As they had done with Taekwoon. 

But Jaehwan was better than that. He had confused possessiveness, a desire to keep something for oneself, with fondness. That was all it was. The past couple of weeks, where he had fed on others, and after a bit of a rocky start, had adjusted back to it, had shown him that. He wasn’t attached to Sanghyuk, he just didn’t like sharing. Simple as that. 

No, he was fine. He had gotten himself all worked up for nothing.

Sanghyuk, of course, had seen that plain as day, and in hindsight, Jaehwan was somewhat embarrassed about his outburst. It had been positively irrational. No wonder his little human had gotten so miffed. He would have to apologize, blast it. He hated admitting he’d been wrong, but he was also somewhat glad he’d been wrong. Better possessive than _invested_. 

And he would have to apologize, because he may not be invested, thank God, but he did want Sanghyuk back in his bed at some point. And if not that then, at the very least, he wanted to make sure Sanghyuk knew. Knew he didn’t care. That he could, actually, hold himself to his own deal.

He took the walk home slowly, feeling loose and languid. He whistled a light tune, hearing the sound echo back to him from the empty street.

He was fine, he thought to himself as he turned into his alleyway, lifting the grate at the end. He was fine.

His entire extended little vampire family was in his living room, when he walked into it. Hakyeon looked peeved to see him, which was just tough, as far as Jaehwan was concerned, this was his home. The long-necked little shit should be glad Jaehwan hadn’t warded the place against him.

“You’re back,” Wonshik said, rather inanely, Jaehwan thought. He was holding a blood bag, while beside him, Hongbin appeared to be drinking his blood out of a tiny china teacup. 

“Astute observational skills as always, my child,” Jaehwan said, breezing through the room toward the hallway. Wonshik scowled and Hakyeon rolled his eyes. “Why is Crazy drinking blood out of a teacup, might I ask?”

Hongbin took a sip daintily, letting his pinky stick out. “Maybe I felt like being fancy.”

“He is mocking Hakyeon,” Wonshik said, gesturing at Hakyeon, who was drinking his blood out of a hideous metal thermos.

“You should join the party,” Jaehwan said to Wonshik, grinning sharply. “I have some spare vases laying around you could use.” 

Wonshik didn’t deign that with a reply. Hakyeon spoke as if Jaehwan wasn’t in the room, addressing the others. “He still has that stick in his ass, I see.”

“Yes, he does, but then, things haven’t changed,” Hongbin said, smiling a small, secret little smile. He and Hakyeon shared a look that Jaehwan most certainly did not like. 

Jaehwan squinted at them. “I am not sure what you are implying but I do not think I like it.”

Hongbin looked at him, affecting innocence, while Hakyeon smirked, a little, and Wonshik sipped his blood bag. Taekwoon was ever stony faced.

“Fine,” Jaehwan sniffed. “Keep your secrets. I am sure they are boring.”

“You fed,” Taekwoon said softly, utterly from left field. But Jaehwan was used to that.

“I did,” Jaehwan said, arching an eyebrow.

“On someone other than Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon clarified. He blinked slowly at Jaehwan, like an overgrown and particularly surly cat.

“Yes,” Jaehwan said, speaking slowly, like Taekwoon needed to be walked through this, “I did. There are many humans out in the world, you see. They all have blood. You can go out and puncture anyone you feel like and the blood will flow out. It’s like magic.”

“What about Sanghyuk?” Hakyeon asked, and fuck, Jaehwan had thought he had a fixation on Sanghyuk, but the others took the fucking cake for that. “Are you two done, then?”

“No,” Jaehwan said, maybe a little too quickly, “but I am free to feed on others, am I not? Such are the terms of our deal. I am not bound, and neither is he.”

Hakyeon snorted. “You pitched quite a fit when he exercised his freedom.”

Oh, Jaehwan loathed the fact that Hakyeon and Sanghyuk were talking again. It meant Hakyeon, horrid little busybody he was, knew far too much about Jaehwan’s life. 

“I simply do not like sharing,” Jaehwan said with a grin, his fangs running out slightly in warning.

Again, the other four shared a look that Jaehwan did not like at all. “I see,” Hakyeon said, and Hongbin took another dainty sip of blood. “He won’t put up with that, you know.”

Jaehwan couldn’t stop himself from bristling. He didn’t like Hakyeon telling him what his human was like. “He won’t have to,” Jaehwan said, silky. “I have since realized I was in error; I do not care about him, so being upset that he sleeps with another is rather foolish. Is it not?”

None of them answered him, but Wonshik did sigh, heavily, and Hakyeon rolled his eyes. Hongbin was giggling into his teacup, and Taekwoon was looking at Jaehwan like he was a repulsive and somewhat pitiful dishrag.

Jaehwan got the unpleasant sensation that if he’d been human, he’d be blushing right now. “In fact,” he announced loudly, to try and squash down the stab of anxiety in his belly. “I will go see Sanghyuk right now, and tell him exactly that.”

They didn’t say anything as Jaehwan turned and marched right back out of the house. He could do this. Admitting it to Sanghyuk, that he’d been wrong, that he was _fine_ , would solidify it. 

Not that it needed solidifying per se, because he was fine.

He really was.

——

Sanghyuk was doing the dishes, for the first time in over a week, up to his elbows in bubbles, when the wards along his house rippled. He stilled in his vigorous scrubbing of a greasy pan, shoulders tensing. 

It could be Hakyeon, he thought as he pulled his hands out of the warm water, turning the faucet on for a moment to rinse the suds off his skin. It seemed unlikely, though. Hakyeon had been to visit him for the second time this week just last night— Sanghyuk didn’t think he’d come by two nights in a row.

Which left Wonshik, or Jaehwan. Sanghyuk didn’t gamble, but he’d bet it was Jaehwan, finally bucking up and coming back. 

Sanghyuk dried his hands off on a dish towel, inhaling and exhaling slowly, methodically. He was trying not to get pre-emptively worked up. Jaehwan was better dealt with when one had their wits about them. And this time, Sanghyuk wasn’t just going to let him slide by. Jaehwan was a prideful creature, who, as far as Sanghyuk had seen, had never been held accountable for his own actions. But he owed Sanghyuk a fucking apology. 

The tapping, this time, came from Sanghyuk’s living room window. Perhaps Jaehwan was hoping to escape the smell of Sungjae. He was about to be disappointed.

Sanghyuk tossed the dish towel onto his counter and strode into his living room, yanking up the blinds on his window. Jaehwan was framed there, the moonlight silhouetting him, making a halo around his head through his hair. 

“Can I come in?” Jaehwan asked, muffled through the glass. His breath steamed up the pane, and he blinked at Sanghyuk, looking young and harmless. 

Sanghyuk felt his nostrils flare in agitation. They’d have to talk at some point. Jaehwan was immortal, after all. This needed to get resolved, one way or another. And Sanghyuk was angry, he was _pissed_ , but he also wanted reconciliation. It was a weakness of his. And he had enough, perhaps foolish, naivete in him to hope that Jaehwan might pull his head out of his ass. Sanghyuk fucking liked him, when he wasn’t being a dick.

He unlocked the window, shoving the pane up and stepping aside. It was all the answer he’d give, and as Jaehwan slipped into the room, graceful and fluid and inhuman, Sanghyuk said, “You’d better be here to apologize. I don’t want to hear any excuses or deal with any more tantrums—”

“I am here to apologize,” Jaehwan murmured, looking around the living room, seemingly taking in any minute changes. 

Sanghyuk felt his eyebrows raise, genuinely a little taken aback. That was not at all what he had been expecting to hear. “What?” he asked, unable to quite believe his ears. “You— what?”

Jaehwan’s eyes stopped roving over the room, coming to pin Sanghyuk directly. “I came here to apologize,” he repeated. “I should not have reacted as I did, you did not violate the terms of our deal.” His voice was carefully flat. “We are not lovers, and as I am not being held to such terms, you should not be either. I am— I have never been good at sharing. But that does not mean that you did wrong. So yes, I apologize.”

It was hard to know how to feel, under the sheer amount of shock that Jaehwan had actually just made an apology— and a proper one at that. Sanghyuk had expected a fight, expected that getting Jaehwan to quit acting like a child over this would be like pulling teeth. He’d felt like someone had snatched the rug out from under him. He waited, a few beats, for the excuses, for Jaehwan to somehow twist it to be on Sanghyuk’s shoulders— but it didn’t come. Jaehwan just kept staring at him, seemingly patient, waiting, demeanor cool and collected. 

Sanghyuk exhaled slowly. “I am waiting for the catch,” Sanghyuk said, having nothing to lose by being honest here.

“No catch, love,” Jaehwan said, with a smile that seemed brittle. “I am, at times, capable of self-reflection. I know I was being— hypocritical.”

“It took you a couple of weeks to realize that?” Sanghyuk asked, snappish. He didn’t want to fight, not really, but he’d been stewing in this.

“No,” Jaehwan said cooly, “it did not. I merely thought I should think things through, properly, before coming back, and also thought you might need some space.” His eyes searched Sanghyuk’s face, looking for something. “You are still upset.”

“You— you said some things,” Sanghyuk said, feeling the anger bubble up at the memory and trying to fight it down.

Jaehwan nodded in acknowledgement. “I did, and I shouldn’t have.”

Fuck, Jaehwan wasn’t giving Sanghyuk anything to pick a fight with here. “Yeah, but you did,” Sanghyuk said simply, “and it made some things clear to me, and I know now that this whole _my human_ thing— it needs to stop. Because this is what happens— you think you have some kind of claim on me, and you dont.”

Jaehwan nodded again, but this time it was slower. “No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m not yours,” Sanghyuk continued, to see if Jaehwan would argue.

There was a pause, but Jaehwan eventually echoed, “You’re not mine.” He was almost carefully blank, at this point. Sanghyuk didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe this is just how Jaehwan acted when he was forced to swallow down his pride.

It was all happening too easily, and Sanghyuk couldn’t help his suspicion. “What the fuck happened to you to make you change?”

Jaehwan looked away, as if in thought. “As I said, I did some reflecting,” he murmured, nudging an empty takeout box that was on Sanghyuk’s floor with his toes, like he needed to fidget. “I realized I was coming at this from a— a misguided mindset. I’ve never been in this sort of arrangement with a human, it was different than I anticipated. But it’s no matter— I’ve taken a step back to evaluate things, and adjusted them accordingly.”

Sanghyuk had no idea what fucking mindset Jaehwan had been in before— or what one he was in now. He didn’t understand Jaehwan at all, other than the basics of him being a selfish vampire with a wit that could slice. Did Jaehwan realize that him apologizing— it wasn’t going to alter Sanghyuk’s behavior? Did he think that if he acted nicer, Sanghyuk would acquiesce to his desires? Sanghyuk couldn’t help but feel this was some kind of trick. 

He squinted at Jaehwan. “You know I’m still sleeping with Sungjae,” he said, testing the waters. Surely Jaehwan could smell that, if nothing else.

“Yes,” Jaehwan said, still in that blank tone.

“I’m not going to stop,” Sanghyuk said bluntly. “At least, not until I feel like it. And I don’t currently feel like it.”

“I— yes. That is fine.”

“Is it?” Sanghyuk asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. “Because I don’t want to deal with any more possessive tantrums from you, Jaehwan.”

“I will not pretend to like it, because I do not. But I have no right to weigh in on it.” Jaehwan looked away, down at the floor, his lashes standing out starkly against his pale cheeks. He took a deep breath. “Because as you said, you are not mine.”

“No, I am not yours,” Sanghyuk said in agreement, “as you are not mine. These things need to be equal, Jaehwan.”

Jaehwan still wasn’t looking at him, and there was a long, odd pause. “Yes,” he finally said, and his voice sounded a little off in a way Sanghyuk couldn’t place. “Yes, they do, you are right.”

And with that, Sanghyuk had nothing left to go on. He felt like he was in some weird twilight zone. “I never thought I’d see the day when you said sorry, for anything,” he said, again feeling honesty was the best route here. “I appreciate it, I do— but I’m still pretty miffed, Jaehwan. You can’t just act like a bastard and expect me to bounce right back. I still kind of want to throttle you.”

“Understandable,” Jaehwan said, his voice snapped back to being businesslike. “I will go, I merely wanted to apologize to you. I felt the air needed to be cleared.” Sanghyuk blinked in blank surprise as Jaehwan turned, moving towards the open window. “If you decide you wish to— you may come by my home at any time. I know Hakyeon has been to see you; I do not think he presents a threat any longer.” There it was, the open offer of resuming their relationship, but—

“That’s it?” Sanghyuk asked, as Jaehwan had braced himself on the window ledge to jump out. It made Jaehwan pause and turn to look back at Sanghyuk.

“Hm?” Jaehwan said, the picture of polite curiosity.

“You don’t want sex?” Sanghyuk asked bluntly, unable to believe Jaehwan really, truly, came here simply to apologize, without some sort of ulterior motive. “You didn’t come here to— to weasel me back into your bed?

Jaehwan laughed, the sound throaty, and it sent chills down Sanghyuk’s spine. They weren’t bad chills. “Oh, if you were offering, I’d be delighted to indulge you,” Jaehwan said, voice lowering and eyes going hooded in a way that made Sanghyuk blush, a little, because it _affected_ him. “On my end, I am ready for things between us to resume, whenever you desire. If you desire. As I said, I’ve adjusted some things.”

“And that’s it?” Sanghyuk asked, making a short little gesture between them. “You’re just— you expect me to believe that this time you can hold yourself to the terms of the deal, when you failed so spectacularly before?” 

“I can,” Jaehwan said, definite, eyes unreadable, “I know I can. As I said before, Sanghyuk, I was out of line. I am possessive by nature, but I am aware that in this context— it is rather ridiculous, as that is not the sort of relationship we have. I do not like being ridiculous. And I do not want that sort of relationship with you. You are not, as you said, mine, and I do not want to be yours.” He smiled, and again, it felt brittle. “I suppose only time will show you that I mean it, that I can hold myself to my own terms.”

“I’m just wary, Jaehwan,” Sanghyuk said. He felt tired, in the absence of the anger. He’d geared up for a battle and hadn’t gotten one. “Can you blame me?”

“No, I suppose I cannot.” Something flickered across Jaehwan’s face, and he added in a murmur, “I too, am a bit wary.”

Sanghyuk raised an eyebrow. “What have I done to make you wary?”

Jaehwan pressed his lips together, and didn’t reply. He appeared to gather himself, and squared his shoulders. “You said to only come back when I could hold myself to the terms of my own deal— and I can, I’ve sorted things out. And I am going to be utterly transparent here and say that I would be quite pleased to have you back in my bed.” 

“I did say that,” Sanghyuk said, and then paused, weighing his words. “And I meant it, and intend to hold to it— I like our arrangement, Jaehwan, I really do— it’s just, to be honest, I didn’t expect you to pull your head out of your ass. I’m a little thrown.”

Jaehwan smiled, and this time, it was a little more genuine. “I’m just full of surprises, I guess,” he said, tone light and airy, “an enigmatic, mystery character.”

Sanghyuk almost smiled, almost, but he didn’t want to give Jaehwan that, just yet. “You’re one of a kind, if nothing else.” 

Jaehwan sighed, and he turned away, so Sanghyuk couldn’t see his face as he murmured, “As are you.” Then he was crouched on the window ledge, looking back at Sanghyuk with eyes that were far too bright. “Dawn is soon, so I must be off.” 

“Jaehwan—” Sanghyuk said, stepping forward and then stopping. Jaehwan stopped just before flitting away, and blinked at Sanghyuk, slowly, anticipating. “Thank you, for apologizing. I— thank you.”

Jaehwan had shutters behind his eyes, and Sanghyuk sensed a whirlwind behind them. “Come here,” Jaehwan said softly, neither a command nor a request.

Sanghyuk stepped up to the window, having to look up a little because of their current positions. Jaehwan leaned down, kissing Sanghyuk softly, slowly, almost unbearably intimate. When he pulled away Sanghyuk was breathing a little heavier, cheeks slightly pink.

“Do come pay me a visit, love,” Jaehwan murmured, “once you’re no longer— miffed. Or thrown. I promise to behave.”

Sanghyuk pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Jaehwan’s mouth, a wordless agreement, and Jaehwan sighed, the sound fluttery. And then he was gone, and Sanghyuk swayed, slightly, into the empty air. 

——

“Do you believe him?” Ilhoon asked, from his perch at the top of the short red slide. “That he’s sorry, that he won’t do it again.”

“I’m not sure,” Sanghyuk said, absentmindedly drawing swirling patterns in the sand with his fingertips. The four of them — Ilhoon, Sungjae, Hyunsik, and Sanghyuk — had finished with their long patrol shift, and walked to the local playground to await the rising sun and gossip. Ilhoon’s favorite activity, it seemed. “He’s shown in the past that he is capable of self-reflection and— changing his behavior, to make room for my own comforts. He did it at the start of our arrangement.”

“Hmm,” Ilhoon said, sounding unimpressed. The streetlamps around them flickered off, making them all blink, but it was just because of the oncoming dawn. The sky was positively gray. 

Neither Hyunsik nor Sungjae reacted to Sanghyuk’s words. Hyunsik was lying in the slide, his eyes closed, possibly napping, Ilhoon’s feet bracketing his head, and Sungjae was beside Sanghyuk, very engrossed in making a rather shoddy sandcastle. 

Sanghyuk continued on anyway, speaking to Ilhoon, “I honestly think— this is a first for him, in many ways, just like it’s a first for me. Neither of us have done this sort of thing before. I think we’re both trying to figure it out, figure each other out. It’s— it’s an odd situation.”

“What’s so odd about being friends with benefits?” Hyunsik mumbled, not opening his eyes. 

Sanghyuk bit the tip of his tongue, knowing he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just the friends with benefits part, it was the human and vampire part that was— trickiest. Jaehwan was an utterly alien creature. They had different rules. 

He had told his friends all he could, which was painfully little, all things considered. But the bare bones version got enough of it across. Sanghyuk wanted outside opinions, unbiased outside opinions. If he asked Hakyeon for advice, Hakyeon would probably tell him to light Jaehwan on fire. 

Ilhoon spoke, saving Sanghyuk from having to come up with something, “I think you’re the only one who can really judge this, Sanghyuk. You know this guy, we don’t.” 

Sanghyuk sighed. He picked up a dried leaf, placing it atop Sungjae’s malformed castle, like a little flag. “I never thought he’d apologize, without any excuses. It gives me hope, that maybe we can work through this, like we worked through the earlier issue. And I’d like to work through it. I’d like to resume our arrangement.”

“The sex is that good?” Sungjae asked, grinning wickedly. Sanghyuk poked a hole in one of his towers to wipe the look off his face.

“It’s not just that,” Sanghyuk muttered, blushing slightly. “It’s— I like him. Not romantically, just, like, as a person? He’s fun to be around, when he doesn’t have his head up his ass. There’s something about him that’s just— I don’t know, really compelling.” Jaehwan was exceedingly charismatic, very intelligent, and yeah, great in bed. But there was also something, some intangible thing that drew Sanghyuk in, like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was a vampire thing. 

Maybe Sanghyuk just liked the aspect of danger too much.

Ilhoon was looking at Sanghyuk like he was reading his mind, his eyes far too piercing. “To be honest, Sanghyuk, it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind to continue on with the arrangement,” he said, hitting the nail on the head. Hard. 

Sanghyuk flushed even more. “Yeah,” he said, wiping away all his swirly marks in the sand. “I guess I have.” 

He wasn’t going to forget how Jaehwan had acted, it had been noted and catalogued. One more reason to make sure he stayed uninvested. But if Jaehwan had really meant his apology and acted accordingly, then there was no reason to not resume their arrangement. Sanghyuk was seeing him for good sex, not for companionship. He didn’t need to be fond of Jaehwan, nor trust him emotionally, for that. 

And if Jaehwan didn’t hold himself to the deal, Sanghyuk could always leave. It was something time would tell, and he was willing to give Jaehwan the opportunity to prove himself. He’d been pleasantly surprised last time. 

He hoped he’d be pleasantly surprised this time too.

Ilhoon _hmph_ ed, tossing his head back to flick his bangs out of his eyes. “Well, make him sweat a little, at least,” he said, and Sungjae rolled his eyes. “Don’t go back to him too soon.”

“I don’t think he cares enough to sweat,” Sanghyuk said, smiling a little at the thought. “But yeah, I was gonna hold out for a bit, just for some revenge.”

Ilhoon settled back, seeming content by that, and Hyunsik cracked an eye open. “Sun’s coming up,” he murmured, and they all turned to watch as the sky turned yellow and orange, and the sun rose, bright and burning, above the horizon.

——

Jaehwan was curled up on his couch, feeling the silence sit oppressively upon him. After having so much company so consistently, the absence of the others was jarring. A few weeks ago Jaehwan had craved to have his house back to himself, but now he had nothing to _do_ in the silence. And he could use the entertainment.

Sanghyuk had not come to see him. Not yet. It had only been three days, and that should have felt like nothing, like a blink, but it had slogged by at a snail’s pace. 

Jaehwan hated waiting.

He pulled his laptop onto his lap, turning it on and hearing the fan whir to life. The screen, even at its lowest brightness, still was too strong for him, so he put his large, rather fashionable sunglasses on. He liked them, even if Wonshik said they were stupid. Wonshik wore baseball caps backwards. Jaehwan suspected that, when Wonshik was human, he’d been the type to wear socks with sandals. He had no business speaking about fashion. 

Jaehwan didn’t feel like watching anything new, instead picking an old crime drama he’d seen before. The dramatic narration echoed tinnily around the room, and Jaehwan settled back into the cushions with a sigh.

Midway through the episode, Jaehwan felt a ripple. He paused the video immediately. The house wards themselves were still, but the sense of a disturbance remained, radiating out from the grate that lead to the alleyway. The feeling of it, like someone wading through still water, got nearer, and judging by the readings of the various charms and wards along the tunnels, it was— was his—

Sanghyuk. It was Sanghyuk. 

The bubble of joy that radiated out from his midsection should have given him pause, but he didn’t stop to contemplate it. He closed his laptop, putting it aside on the coffee table. The house wards were finally jangling, Sanghyuk near enough to disturb them. Jaehwan moved from the couch to the armchair, crossing his legs and laying his hands on the arms rests in a regal position. 

He waited, counting out the seconds in a heartbeat he couldn’t quite hear yet.

It took twelve heartbeats for the front door to open, and Sanghyuk to step through it. His little human heart was going a bit faster than usual, like he was nervous, and Jaehwan felt something inside him ease at the sight of him. The door swung shut behind Sanghyuk, sealing him in.

He was in his usual patrolling gear, jeans with comfortable boots, t-shirt under a leather jacket. After taking a few more steps into the room he caught sight of Jaehwan, and he blinked in the dim light.

Jaehwan smiled, slow, and he was about to purr a greeting but Sanghyuk was blurting out, “What is on your face?”

The sunglasses. Jaehwan had forgotten about the sunglasses. With vampire speed he pulled them off his face and flung them. They landed behind the couch with a sound that implied things had broken. He made no move to show he’d heard it at all, simply looked at Sanghyuk, the picture of cool and collected. 

“Nothing is on my face,” Jaehwan said, and he could see Sanghyuk biting on his bottom lip to hold back a smile. Jaehwan cleared his throat. “Hello, love. It is good to see you.”

“I imagine it is,” Sanghyuk said, sauntering towards him. “It’s been so long since I’ve been here, I’d forgotten how ugly all the decor is. I must be like a breath of fresh air.”

“I don’t need to breath,” Jaehwan reminded him. Sanghyuk was within arms reach now, and Jaehwan snagged his wrist, tugging him to sit on his lap. Sanghyuk ended up half on Jaehwan’s thighs and half on the armchair, but fully disgruntled. It made Jaehwan grin. Despite what he said, he leaned forward, pressing his nose to the hair behind Sanghyuk’s ear and inhaling deeply. 

Sanghyuk smelled like crisp autumn air, like leather, like the burn of magic, like salt and skin. He also, Jaehwan noted a little sourly, had the scent of that other _boy_ on him, different skin and different magic. 

He pulled back, so he could look at Sanghyuk’s face, and Sanghyuk arched an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to comment on it. Jaehwan fought down the jealousy threatening to rise to the fore, the feeling that what he held in his arms was _his_. 

Sanghyuk was not his. Jaehwan did not care enough about him for that, he reminded himself. 

He moved his hands to Sanghyuk’s waist, holding lightly. “It took you a while to come by,” he said, deciding not to mention Sanghyuk’s work at all. It was safer.

Sanghyuk relaxed, a little, under his hands. Relieved, apparently, that Jaehwan had decided not to mention what he knew — the little shit _knew_ — Jaehwan could smell on him. “I wanted to make you sweat a little,” Sanghyuk said, lightly fiddling with the top button of Jaehwan’s shirt. Jaehwan found himself distracted by the feeling. “Didn’t want you to think I was letting you off easy.”

“The tongue lashing you gave me was quite enough, love,” Jaehwan said, and Sanghyuk undid the button utterly, letting his fingers ghost over the newly exposed skin of Jaehwan’s throat. The touch was almost exploratory, and Jaehwan swallowed. “Thinking about where you’re going to slice if I misbehave again?”

Sanghyuk’s eyes glinted. “Maybe.” He leaned in, mouthing at Jaehwan’s throat. Jaehwan tipped his head back, and as he did so he slid his hands up Sanghyuk’s chest, under the leather jacket, and he gently pushed it off Sanghyuk’s shoulders. Sanghyuk shivered, as the garment fell away, the air down here cold on his skin.

“I can hold to the deal, love, you’ll see,” Jaehwan said. And he could, because he was fine. He had a handle on things, and it didn’t matter, if Sanghyuk slept with his partner, if Sanghyuk was uninvested. Because he was too. 

“Mm,” Sanghyuk murmured, his breath on Jaehwan’s skin. He pressed kisses up Jaehwan’s neck, to his jaw, and whispered, “You’re trembling.” Jaehwan’s hands tightened on Sanghyuk’s shoulders, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Please, let everything be fine.


End file.
